


Everything and More

by nikkilious77



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Brain Damage, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-typical swearing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Grimmons if you squint real hard, Kimball's kinda mean, Love Confessions, M/M, Memory Loss, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, S17 Spoilers, Self-Doubt, Tuckington - Freeform, Wash has PTSD, many of the included characters are only in a couple of scenes, memory lapses, self-deprecating thoughts, this fic focuses on Tucker and Wash, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:01:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22109020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikkilious77/pseuds/nikkilious77
Summary: Wash is trying to live with his brain damage after being shot but the memory lapses make things hard. Tucker is always there whenever Wash needs him. However, Wash's feelings also seem to be making things difficult.
Relationships: Lavernius Tucker/Agent Washington
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	1. Part 1:

**Author's Note:**

> Set post season 17 and pre-season 18. Idk how the rvb writers will treat wash’s brain damage and memory lapses so if what I have written is proven to be inaccurate when s18 is released I apologize. I only had the few scenes s17 provided us with to use as a reference to his brain damage. And i know wash also kinda suffered from mood swings as part of everything but I chose to just focus on the memory part. Also, I do not suffer from PTSD so if the nightmares in this fic are an inaccurate representation I also apologize for that. I do plan on writing a “sequel” to this work if that’s what you want to call it. It’ll be set in the same universe as this fic and take place after the events of this fic but it will be Grimmons centric. When I get around to actually writing that though is the real mystery.

It had been about a month since Agent Washington was shot. Well, shot the second time due to all the paradox and time travel bullshit. And he was recovering nicely on Chorus with the Reds and Blues by his side. They would’ve returned back to their retirement moon, Iris, but Dr. Grey wanted Wash close in case anything was to happen while still so early on in his recovery.

He hated to say it but the memory lapses became a normal thing to Wash and although they never lasted long or happened often, they were enough to be a nuisance to the ex-freelancer. After what seemed like forever, Washington was _finally_ cleared to start working out again. However, he did have to nag Dr. Grey about it for nearly three weeks. The only way she could get him to drop the subject was to threaten to use him for experimental treatments, many of which sounded quite painful, even to Wash.

Wash decided to go work out in the training room by himself today, something Carolina would kill him for if she found out. It always helped him focus better if he was by himself and it gave him a chance to clear his head. 

Tucker walked in the training room expecting it to be empty. It was lunch time, everyone would be in the mess hall. He had stepped up again and took on more responsibility since Wash was still on the DL. One way to do that was to start taking his training seriously, like he had when Wash and the others were with the Feds. But still not too serious. Tucker wanted to be known as the “fun” captain, and not another with a stick up his ass.

However, what Tucker did not expect was to walk into the training room and see Agent Washington there, looking like _that._ Holy fuck. It made him stop in his tracks and just stare. Tucker could see Wash’s defined, toned muscles through his tank top, up his back, and down his arms. His freckles were scattered across his shoulders and the back of his neck all the way down to his hands. It was almost as if someone had flicked a paintbrush at Wash and that’s how they got there. Tucker wondered if those freckles were _everywhere,_ even on his –

“Tucker?” Wash was giving him a questioning look. Tucker realized that Wash had stopped lifting weights and seemed to be waiting for the dark-skinned man to give him some kind of answer. 

“Nice form.” Tucker managed with a smirk. His eyes scanned Wash up and down. Wash simply rolled his eyes.

“You’d be able to achieve this too if you actually took your training seriously, Captain Tucker.” Wash sassed as he grabbed his bag and exited.

Tucker sighed sadly, “Wash… we see each other in the training room everyday…” Luckily, Wash was out of earshot as he said this or at least Tucker thought he was.

Wash’s heart grew heavy at Tucker’s words. They saw each other in the training room _every day_? Why couldn’t he remember? He believed Tucker but he couldn’t put a visual to the words. He wanted the memory to be there, tangible in his mind, to bring himself relief but try as he might, it wouldn’t appear.

Wash trudged his way toward the mess hall, trying so hard to think, to remember. It seemed to be just out of reach like it was on the other side of a fogged-up window. He could see it, like as though there was an outline, but there wasn’t any detail, nothing definitive he could make out.

“Come on, David. What’d you do yesterday?” He mumbled to himself, raking a hand through his hair. He got up, got ready for the day, and put on his armor. After leaving his room, Wash had a meeting with Kimball to discuss a reconnaissance/supply run mission the lieutenants would be sent on at the end of the week as a field test. After the meeting, he… he… 

“What the hell?! What’d I do after that damn meeting?” He muttered. Wash stopped walking and closed his eyes tightly, fisting his hair in his hands in hopes that would aid in helping him remember. After the meeting, he… he went to the training room. That was it. He went to the training room and Tucker was already there lifting weights. God, how could he have forgotten _that_? Let’s just say that Wash had been grateful he was wearing his armor then because he would’ve stolen the nickname “tomato can” from Simmons if Tucker had been able to see him.

_Why is that I forget the shit I want to remember?_ Wash thought. He rubbed a hand down over his face and continued walking to the mess hall, dragging his feet along in disappointment.

\---

Agent Washington was tasked with overseeing the lieutenants' mission alongside Simmons and Grif. The lieutenants would be doing all the work, the CO’s were only there in case they ran into any unforeseen problems. Although they all had come quite a long way, the cadets, now police officers of Chorus, weren’t prepared for combat on their own.

Their task was to travel into the jungles of Chorus and collect various specimens for Dr. Grey. What exactly they were for was unclear, could be for medicine or for some sick and twisted experiment she wanted to try. With her, it was a tossup.

“Ugh, I don’t get why we even have to do this. The war’s over.” Lt. Bitters complained.

“Awe come on, I think this trip will be a blast,” Lt. Palomo began.

“Shut the fuck up, Palomo,” Grif interjected.

However, that didn’t stop Palomo, “Just a bunch of friends, out here in the wilderness.”

“Palomo, I swear to god if you keep talking, I’m going to shoot you,” Grif added again.

“Man, what an adventure!” The annoying lieutenant finally seemed like he was done.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Grif expressed in exasperation.

“Easy, Captain Grif…” Wash warned him, “You’re starting to sound like Captain Tucker.”

“Grif, you signed up for this. You’re in no position to complain.” Simmons pointed out.

“Yeah, right ‘cause it was either this or stay back in Armonia and have “wine and cheese” hour with Donut or avoid taking orders from Sarge. This was a far easier option.” Grif explained, voiced drenched with sarcasm at the beginning, and honestly, he had a point. Wine drunk Donut got old after about five minutes and Sarge was… well, he’s Sarge. There’s no certainty in what he’d do.

“Whatever, Grif,” Simmons grumbled and walked further ahead as the group reached an open area of the jungle and began to spread out. Wash could tell Grif was staring after Simmons as he walked out of earshot with the others.

“Ya know, I’m actually surprised Kimball let you on this mission. She only wanted two senior officers to oversee it. Simmons and I were the two that volunteered, but I’m sure you knew that, didn’t you?” Wash alluded, tilting his head at the orange soldier.

“Psh, she probably got sick of me complaining about Sarge and Donut all hours of the day.” Grif tried to brush it off but there was an edge to his voice that hinted to Wash he was onto something. Wash also knew Kimball was a very stubborn woman. She made a decision and stuck with it. _Something_ had to make her change her mind. Something far more significant than Grif’s complaining.

“He’s gonna be fine. You know that right?” Wash said with reassurance.

“Huh?” Grif was caught off guard.

“Simmons. He’s going to be alright. There haven’t been any threats on Chorus since we took down the space pirates and I doubt there’s anything out here in the middle of the jungle. You don’t need to be worried.” Wash further explained and even though he couldn’t see Grif’s face he could tell his suspicions had been correct.

Incoherent noises escaped Grif’s mouth as he tried to find words to defend himself against Wash’s accusation. But he couldn’t do such a thing because everything Wash was alluding to was true. So he settled on the alternative option to admitting he cared: being an asshole. “You fucking freelancers, think you know everything. Well, ya don’t! Huh, what do you think about that?! You don’t know shit! And tell me, when are you and Tucker going to admit that you’ve wanted to bone each other since we landed on this planet?!”

Wash jumped back in surprise. Was it that obvious he liked Tucker? “What…” Was all that Agent Washington could manage.

“See! How do you like it?!” Grif strained, pointing a finger at the cobalt colored soldier. He walked away to join the group in the opening before Wash could argue with him.

Wash stood there like a statue for a minute. He wondered that if Grif had picked up on him liking Tucker, who else had? Hopefully, not Tucker.

He decided that standing there wouldn’t do much good so he set out to help the others search and make sure the lieutenants stayed on task.

Somehow, Bitters and Palomo had wandered away from the group, leaving the two alone, much to Bitters’ displeasure. Luckily, Palomo was strictly focusing on finding whatever Grey needed. Bitters just made it look like he was working. However, he remained alert. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about the jungle. Who knows, maybe the heat was finally getting to his head.

Palomo found some mushrooms he believed to be on Grey’s list. He decided to check through the pictures Grey provided just to be sure. Behind him, there was some rustling from within the trees. Probably just Bitters searching.

He found the mushroom picture but he _still_ wasn’t sure. His eyes went back and forth between the picture and the mushrooms. There was more rustling. Wow, Bitters sure is taking this mission seriously. That was surprising.

“Hmmm…” Palomo wondered aloud.

“Um… Palomo…” Bitters said but Palomo seemed to ignore him.

“Hey, Bitters what do you think of these mushrooms?” Palomo asked. This matter required a second opinion. He wouldn’t want to bring back the wrong mushrooms by mistake.

“Palomo…” There was a warning edge to his voice.

“Like I can’t tell from the picture that Grey gave us if they’re the right kind. Like they’re similar in color but not exact.” Palomo further explained, eyes still focused on the mushrooms, but his ears picked up on even more rustling.

“Palomo.” Bitters’ voice was more forceful now.

“Like we wouldn’t want to bring back the wrong kind and end up poisoning everyone, ya kn- “

“Palomo!” Bitters shouted, which finally snapped the young lieutenant out of his mushroom trance. He whipped around quickly to face Bitters only to find that there were five guys dressed in black armor surrounding the two. Space pirates. 

“Well fuck! Bitters, why didn’t you say something?!” Palomo muttered under his breath.

“I swear to god, Palomo, if we make it out of this, I’m going to kill you.” Bitters mumbled back before turning to the pirates, “The hell do you guys want?”

“You’re part of the crew that killed our boss and most of our friends. We’re just here to return the favor.” One of them sneered. He held a knife in his hand.

“Your boss was a dick. And frankly, most of your friends were too.” Bitters stated matter-of-factly. There’s no way the two of them could take on all five, and they couldn’t contact help only a few hundred yards away without the pirates knowing. Bitters hoped he could talk long enough so that help would find them and Palomo could keep his damn mouth shut.

“Maybe so… But I wouldn’t want to die knowing Felix died for nothing. So, how I see it is: you guys killed all but ehh... let’s say ten of us, therefore, your team can spare one or, in this case, two of its men. In my opinion, you guys get the better end of the deal.” Bitters knew the sinister voice held a smirk behind the black helmet. He ground his teeth. This was it. They were going to die.

The space pirate drew his arm back and flung the knife at Bitters. Bitters froze. He couldn’t move, it was as if his feet were cemented to the ground. It’s not like he had all the time in the world to move out of the way. If he was going to dodge it, it had to be now. The knife was only inches from his face when a gunshot sounded. The next second, the knife was gone, knocked down to the side.

Everyone, lieutenants and space pirates included, stared at the knife dumbfounded for a moment before looking in the direction the shot originated. The merc who threw the knife was only able to catch a glimpse of what was going on before getting a bullet between the eyes and falling like a sack of potatoes.

“Palomo, Bitters, get cover!” It was Agent Washington.

Palomo didn’t need to be told twice, he was running to the nearest tree before Wash was even done with the sentence. Bitters, however, took the moment the pirates were stunned at the death of their friend as an opportunity to take action. He raised his gun and managed to get a few rounds into the first merc he locked onto, taking him out.

Two down, three to go.

The mercs snapped out of their trance when the second man fell. The remaining three split off. Two went after Wash and the third decided to take on Bitters. That’s when the firefight began.

Bitters narrowly dodged the bullets, jumping behind a nearby tree for cover. When the merc stopped to reload, Bitters jumped out ready to fire only to discover the merc was nowhere to be seen. Where the hell did he go? Bitters didn’t see any movement.

Bitters was prepared to ditch this merc to go check on Palomo when he was tackled to the ground, gun knocked from his hand. Bitters and his attacker struggled on the ground. Bitters ended flat on his back with the attacker above him. The merc threw a couple of punches both hit the ground as Bitters was able to move out of the way.

Bitters heard the distinct _sheen_ sound of a knife being unsheathed and saw how the light glistened off the silver. His eyes widened and he instinctively reached up and grabbed the merc’s arm to keep the knife from plunging into his throat. The merc added a second hand for further leverage, using all of his strength to try and force it down. He seemed to be growling with anger. Bitters added his other hand too, straining his muscles to keep himself alive for as long as he could. Even if it were only for a couple seconds, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

Bitters ground his teeth; his face twisted behind his helmet from the strain he was forcing on himself. Slowly, the knife inched down but that damn merc really had to work for it, despite having all the advantages in this fight. This wasn’t good though. Bitters couldn’t hold him back forever. 

“Why won’t you just fucking die?!” The merc shouted through gritted teeth. Bitters closed his eyes; his muscles were slowly failing. A single shot rang out. Suddenly a weight was lifted off Bitters’ chest, quite literally.

Bitters peaked his eyes open, the merc was dead. Gunshot wound to the side of the head.

“Are you kidding, Bitters is too lazy to die.” Palomo snickered. His gun still pointed in the general direction of the dead merc and Bitters where he sat dumbfounded on the ground.

Palomo just saved his life. _Ah fuck, that means I owe him_. Bitters complained to himself. He took the hand Palomo offered to help himself up.

“Uh, thanks, I guess…” Bitters scratched the back of his neck.

“Thank me later, we’ve got to make sure Agent Washington is okay,” Palomo stated and rushed off to try and find where the cobalt and yellow soldier and the two mercs wound up.

The two mercs rushed at Wash, guns blazing. He fired bullets right back, scanning his peripherals for a place to take cover. A tree would have to do, he didn’t have any other options. Wash was almost out of ammunition. He’d have to improvise pretty soon.

“Great day to leave the field manual back in my room.” He sarcastically muttered to himself. He dared to peek around the tree to see that the mercs were standing out in the open, hastily reloading their guns. He took the opportunity to fire off as many rounds as he could. Based on the screams he heard once he ducked back behind the tree, he knew at least one of them was wounded. 

That opportunity also depleted his bullet supply. Time for improvising.

Wash tossed his now useless gun aside and readied his knives. He heard the clatter of another gun farther away from him. The other guys were out of ammunition too. He supposed that was a good thing. He ran out from behind the tree and charged at the able-bodied merc who was simultaneously charging right back at Wash.

He was able to evade the initial punch but the merc acted fast and landed a back kick on Wash sending him stumbling. Wash regained his footing and faced his opponent again before charging. He threw a couple of punches when he was within striking distance, only one managed to land as the others were blocked.

The punch startled the merc just long enough that Wash was able to roundhouse kick the guy and send him flying to the ground.

For a second, Wash thought the guy planned to give up, but then he saw the man fumbling along the side of his leg. A pistol.

Agent Washington wasted no time in whipping out one of his knives and flinging it at the guy. It plunged into his throat causing him to flop onto his back. The ready to fire pistol fell to the ground beside him. Wash just stared at the body for a moment, watching the blood pool on the forest floor.

“You stupid fucks…” The wounded merc spoke from his place crippled on the ground.

Wash looked at him, he almost forgot he was even there.

“You think that just because you’ve killed our leader and most of our men that you’ve won…” The guy then maniacally laughed, “This is just beginning. We’re out there, everywhere. And we’re coming, maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but we’ll get you one day. Soon.”

He continued rambling on about how they couldn’t be defeated, that there would be ten more to replace one of the fallen but Wash had heard enough. He stalked over to the guy who didn’t even bother to defend himself, and knocked him out.

If anything this guy was saying was true, he could have valuable information and they certainly couldn’t just leave him out here to alert his group, if they existed, that is. As soon as Wash straightened up from punching the guy in the head, the rest of the group ran upon the scene.

“Is the last one taken care of?” Wash asked Bitters.

“Yeah, he’s dead-“ Bitters began.

“All thanks to everyone’s pal, Palomo.” Palomo butted in, proudly. Everyone groaned.

“And congratulations, you ruined yet another moment.” Bitters mumbled out.

Simmons changed the subject, “What the hell happened? We were all searching then heard gunfire and came running.”

“More space pirates.” Wash started.

“I thought we killed all those bastards!” Grif exclaimed.

“Apparently not, this one needs a tourniquet on his leg.” Wash nodded towards the man sprawled on the ground, “I shot him and we can’t have him bleeding out before we get back to Armonia. Once he’s got a tourniquet, handcuff him. He’d only give us problems if he wakes up without them. That being said, the trip's over, we need to get back to the city.”

Wash left the group with the space pirates and headed back for the clearing, snatching his discarded battle rifle on his way by. He tried not to let it show, but his head was killing him. The pain was almost to the point of being unbearable. It must have been the gunfire.


	2. Part 2:

Once back in Armonia, the merc was given proper medical attention and placed in one of the city’s jail cells with guards keeping watch at all times. 

Palomo and Bitters explained to Kimball what happened and Wash told her what the prisoner had said to him. Dr. Grey ordered for Wash to report to the med bay after hearing about the firefight.

“Really, Grey, I’m fine. This isn’t necessary.” Wash tried his best to get out of it.

“Well, if you really are fine, then this shouldn’t take long at all!” She giggled in an overly cheerful voice.

“I’ll meet you at the infirmary. I’ve got to go talk to Kimball.” Wash sighed. Grey shared a strange look with the Bitters and Palomo.

“Uh… Agent Washington…” Palomo began slowly.

“We already talked to Kimball, sir.” Bitters finished in a concerned tone.

“How’d you manage that? We’ve been back for five minutes and you two have been with me the whole time?!”

“Agent Washington, maybe you should take a seat.” Dr. Grey cautiously stated.

“No, I need to talk to Kimball, she needs to know about the space pirates we saw. There could be more of them. And I know these two lieutenants are lying to me to get out of any work. Seriously, guys, Bitters I expected this from you, but Palomo, come on!” Wash ranted.

“Sir… we already told her about the space pirates… you were there with us…” Palomo said sadly.

“Like hell! Dr. Grey is the first person we’ve seen since we’ve been back!” Wash yelled, “Right?” He looked to Grey desperately, beginning to doubt himself.

Grey didn’t say anything for a moment, trying to think of the best thing to say. She settled on the truth. “They’re right, Wash, you three just came from a meeting with Kimball.”

Wash’s face shattered but quickly corrected itself so the despair wasn’t noticeable. He looked at the ground and began to think. It was happening again. He couldn’t fucking remember.

Based on the darting movements of his eyes, Grey knew Wash’s mind was racing.

“Wash, maybe we should go to the infirmary so you could lay down and get some rest. How does that sound?” Grey approached him slowly.

“I can’t remember… why can’t I remember something that happened five fucking minutes ago?! I thought you said the brain damage and memory lapses would only affect older memories!” Wash screamed. God, his head was _killing_ him. He swore that his migraine had a migraine.

There was a sudden wave of pain that came crashing down inside his head. It made Wash lose his balance and twist a hand in his hair to try and ease the pain, though it did less than nothing. His eyes screwed shut and grit his teeth to keep himself from yelling in agony.

Dr. Grey rushed to Wash’s side, “Bitters, go to the med bay and get my staff and a gurney. We need to get Agent Washington admitted immediately!” She ordered. The lieutenant sprinted from the room. She held up Wash since he was having trouble doing so on his own. “Okay, Wash, listen to me, we’re going to take a seat, alright?”

Although, she was speaking clearly and was right next to Wash’s ear, he couldn’t hear a damn word she said. His ears were ringing. But it was louder than sirens and they only seemed to get louder. His brain felt as though it were on fire and being repeatedly pounded by boulders. He couldn’t take it. Wash let out a scream of pain as another wave crashed down. Wash fell to the floor.

“Where the hell is Bitters with that gurney!?” Grey shouted, falling to the floor with him. She couldn’t let him hit his head on anything, that would cause who knows what damage.

Wash continued to groan and cry out in pain as he curled in on himself. Just trying something, anything, to make it go away. Even though his eyes were closed, there was a deeper blackness creeping closer and closer. Wash tried his best to fight it off. He even went as far as trying to open his eyes, let some light in. That was far too painful to accomplish, though. If anything, that only allowed the blackness to come closer. Eventually, the blackness won and everything stopped.

The waves of pain, the pounding sensation, the screeching sirens. It all... stopped. It’s over… thank god.

Bitters and a group of Grey’s staff burst in the room while Wash was still screaming bloody murder. It could be heard from nearly a block away. Without warning, Wash stopped, stopped moving, stopped screaming, stopped well… everything. His body went limp against Grey. It was as if he were a robot that had its batteries yanked out, immediately stopping all motion. Grey hastily checked his pulse, initially fearing the worst. Her team jumped into action at her side.

“He’s passed out. Dehydration may be part of the issue. Start getting fluids in him now before we get him to the med-bay. I need to find out what’s going on in his head.” Grey informed her team. They inserted an IV into his arm and hoisted his unconscious form onto the gurney and whisked him away without a word to Bitters or Palomo.

“Palomo, we need to go tell the others. They need to know what’s going on.” Bitters said. As lazy as the kid was, he knew when to step up.

“Uh, yeah, you’re right. I’ll, uh, I’ll be right there.” Palomo muttered out. As much as he wanted to yell at the kid for hesitating on this, Bitters simply nodded and rushed off to find the Reds and Blues. There wasn’t time for arguments. 

Palomo felt so fucking useless. He just watched Wash have a god damn mental break down and all he could do was stand there and watch. Hell, this entire thing probably could’ve been prevented if had just _turned the fuck around_ rather than blabber on about fucking mushrooms. Agent Washington was suffering all because Palomo was too focused on a fucking fungus. Brilliant. 

He finally found the ability to move from where his feet were bound to the floor, staring at the spot where Wash collapsed, and trudged down the hallway. Bitters ran into him as he dragged himself along. Bitters informed him that the only one that he couldn’t find was Tucker. Palomo volunteered himself to break the news to Tucker.

Why the hell did he do that?! Oh. Right. Cause this was basically his fault.

_Well, this is just perfect._ Palomo thought.

Tucker hated Palomo; everyone knew that, even Palomo. And it was no secret that Tucker and Agent Washington were close, the two practically spent all their time together. Now, Palomo had to be the one to disturb his CO and tell him the news that Agent Washington was in the med-bay. Captain Tucker wouldn’t take the news well. If Palomo lived through this, he’d be shocked. 

Since no one had seen him recently or knew where he presently was, Palomo decided to check Tucker’s room to see if his CO was napping… or doing something else. One thing Palomo prided himself on was how well he knew his captain.

Palomo stood in front of the door debating. Oh, who the hell was he kidding, there wasn’t a debate to be had. Tucker needed to know; he’d only be more pissed if he found out later.

Palomo took a deep breath and knocked. He heard a groan from behind the door.

“Who the fuck is it?” Tucker’s muffled voice came from inside the room.

“Palomo, sir,” Palomo responded respectfully.

“Ugh! Go the fuck away, Palomo! Let me nap in peace!” Tucker yelled back.

Palomo bit his lip, “I can’t do that, sir. I… I have some bad news.”

“Yeah, well and I need to sleep! Whatever problem there is, it can wait!” Palomo heard the creak of Tucker’s bed, he must have rolled over ready to ignore whatever else Palomo said.

Palomo sighed again to prepare himself, “It’s Agent Washington, sir. He’s in the med-bay…” Palomo was ready to explain further from the hallway when the door was yanked open, a disheveled Tucker stood in its place. Worry clouding his eyes.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Tucker’s voice was low in a warning tone. It was as if he was daring Palomo to repeat himself. Tucker’s tone said if Palomo was pulling some sick joke he’d seriously regret it. 

“Agent Washington is in the med-“ Palomo began to repeat his message, but Tucker was already sprinting in Wash’s direction, “bay…”

\---

“Why the fuck can’t I see him?!” Tucker shouted at Dr. Grey.

He stood in the waiting area of the med bay clad only in a tank top, sweats, and socks.

“Because I still don’t know what’s wrong with Agent Washington and he remains unconscious. Subjecting him to visitors could cause more harm than good.” Grey responded calmly.

“I’ll tell you what’s wrong with him: brain damage. That’s what’s fucking wrong with him! Problem solved!” Tucker yelled again.

“I’m sorry Captain Tucker, but you’re just going to have to wait to see him and let me get back to my job,” Grey said, her face held an expression of _you really don’t want to respond to this with another asshole remark_.

“Fine!” Tucker grumbled, but then his demeanor changed to one of borderline fear, “Just… tell me if anything happens, please…”

Grey was almost unprepared for the amount of worry in Tucker’s voice, “Of course, Tucker… I’ll come to get you when you’re able to see him.”

That statement made Tucker breathe a sigh of relief. He nodded as a ‘thank you’ to Grey as she walked back into the bay. Tucker made his way to one of the chairs and sank down.

Tucker lost track of how long he sat there by himself, it couldn’t have been more than an hour but it felt like forever. Some of his friends had shown up during this time but when Tucker explained that they couldn’t see Wash they asked to be notified when they could see him and left. There was no sense in having all of them crowd the waiting area. Kimball was generous and gave everyone the rest of the day off so they could focus on Wash. The only one that stuck around to stay with Tucker was Caboose.

Another hour passed with Caboose there, Grey had come out to the receptionist’s desk a few times for paperwork and some other shit. Every time Tucker was hopeful she was coming to tell them they could go see Wash. He was disappointed each time. Luckily, Tucker was able to keep Caboose distracted with a big maze he found in a children’s magazine. Tucker didn’t have the capacity to deal with Caboose right now. 

While Caboose was trying to get through the maze, for the tenth time, Palomo showed up. Tucker refused to acknowledge the annoying lieutenant’s presence .

“Captain Tucker, sir?” Palomo’s face held one of concern and worry, but there was also a hint of guilt. The grip on his helmet was so tight that his knuckles were probably white under his gloves.

“Now’s not a good time.” Tucker sighed out in a defeated tone. His eyes remained focused straight ahead. 

“I uh… I owe you an apology, sir…” 

This got Tucker’s attention. He stood up and walked over to the lieutenant so they could talk more privately. Caboose didn’t even flinch away from his concentration on the maze.

“What do you mean?” Tucker asked, for once his tone towards the soldier didn’t hold any malice.

Palomo couldn’t meet Tucker’s eyes, “I don’t know if Dr. Grey or anyone else has already filled you in with what happened, but if not…” Palomo took a deep breath, then began, “While we were out in the jungle, Bitters and I somehow separated ourselves from the group and got surrounded by a group of five space pirates. Agent Washington jumped in to help us. When we returned to Armonia, the three of us met with Kimball to tell her everything and then ran into Dr. Grey after we left. Agent Washington then suffered a memory lapse, forgetting we already spoke to Kimball and essentially had a mental breakdown… and now he’s here…” Palomo explained, gesturing towards the doors of the med bay. His tone sounded almost shameful towards the end.

Tucker nodded, the space pirates were definitely a bad thing, but that was nothing more than a passing thought, Wash had priority right now. Wash always had priority at least to Tucker. “What are you sorry about? You couldn’t have possibly known all that would happen.” Tucker consoled Palomo. As annoying the kid was, Tucker didn’t like this side of the kid.

“I could’ve done more… Bitters… he tried to warn me that the space pirates were coming but I was too busy rambling about a fucking mushroom to notice. Maybe if I’d noticed sooner we would’ve been able to stop them without Wash’s help. And when we were fighting them, I just hid like a goddamn coward for most of it… The only time I could do anything was when one guy was about to kill Bitters. And the same thing happened back here, Agent Washington was in the middle of unraveling and I just stood there with my mouth open like a fucking fish…” Palomo stopped and shook his head. By the far off look in his eye, Tucker could tell he was reliving the events from earlier, “I know you and Agent Washington are close and… and I should’ve done more to help him. So, for that I’m sorry... ” He spoke everything with his voice dripping with guilt before looking down at his feet.

“Palomo… you can’t beat yourself up over this… Everyone makes shitty decisions from time to time and trust me I’ve made plenty, both as a soldier and as a leader. Decisions that cost me the lives of those I was leading. And I know how much it sucks, how you’ll think it’s your fault, think there was more you could’ve done, and you’ll be hesitant in everything you do afterward. But you can’t blame yourself for all this. You couldn’t have possibly known this was coming and there’s probably not much that could’ve been done to get a different result, you and Bitters still probably would’ve needed help to take down the space pirates and Wash would’ve been the first to jump in. ” Tucker explained. This felt weird to Tucker, speaking to Palomo without being a dick. But he was still the kid’s captain, it was technically part of his job to watch out for him and encourage him. As much as it may have killed Tucker inside.

Palomo nodded, everything sinking in. Dr. Grey emerged from the med-bay.

“Tucker and Caboose,” Both men looked towards her, hope filling their eyes, “You guys can see him now.” This caused a smile to spread on both of their faces.

“I’m coming, Agent Washingtub!” Caboose screamed as he sprinted past Grey. Tucker shook his head and went to follow the blue soldier.

“Captain Tucker…?” Palomo inquired.

Tucker stopped and glanced over his shoulder.

“Does it get easier? Does this feeling ever go away?” He asked, hopelessly.

Tucker sighed, “To be completely honest, Palomo, not really… It just gets easier to deal with as time goes on. You just have to find ways to distract yourself from the feeling. Just give it time.” With that Tucker walked through the doors, leaving Palomo in the waiting area.

It wasn’t until the next morning Wash was cleared to leave the med bay. Despite Dr. Grey not having found anything wrong with him, she kept him overnight for observation, just in case. He was cleared for the same level of physical activity as before this latest visit, however, Dr. Grey ordered that someone be with Wash while he trains, in case anything was to happen.

Wash slept for most of his time in the med bay, waking up every few hours. Tucker remained by his side the entire time. Caboose had been there for a while as well, but Wash assumes Tucker eventually sent him back to his room.

After Wash left the med bay there was one thing he couldn’t get out of his head: a conversation he overheard between Dr. Grey and Kimball. During one of the several times he woke up, as Tucker slept peacefully in a chair beside his bed, Wash could hear voices outside his door.

“Are you sure clearing him is a good idea?” The voice belonged to Kimball.

“I haven’t found any evidence of further damage to his brain. Physically, he’s fine.” Dr. Grey responded.

“But mentally?” Kimball asked, “I don’t think this is a good idea. There’s no telling when his lapses will happen. There’s no telling who he could put in danger because of a lapse.”

Wait… were they talking about _him_?

“I’ll monitor his condition as time goes on. If anything of concern happens, I’ll remove Agent Washington from active duty status.”

They were… 

“I don’t know, Grey. I have an entire planet of people to think about. People it’s my duty to protect. I can’t have a liability like this doing anything and everything.” Kimball explained authoritatively.

Wash’s heart sank. He stared at his reflection in the glass of the door window. He couldn’t stop the expression that came onto his face, a look of complete defeat and brokenness. A… _liability_ … Was that all he was now?

“President Kimball, are you suggesting that you don’t… _trust_ Agent Washington anymore?!” Dr. Grey was in disbelief at what she heard, her voice held a bit of a scolding tone, “After everything he’s helped do for us and this planet?!”

“I know, Grey; I know Agent Washington has done a lot of good for us. And he’s a close friend of mine. It’s terrible I’m even having this conversation with you, but I need to make the tough calls to protect the rest of the people here, even if it means turning against a friend.” Kimball finished. The two were silent for a moment.

Kimball sighed. “I trust your judgment Dr. Grey, if you think Agent Washington is okay, then you can clear him as you see fit.” Wash heard the sound of retreating footsteps after she finished. No doubt they were Kimball’s.

Grey still remained outside Wash’s room, she sighed to herself, “Yes, ma’am.”

Despite it having been days since his release, Agent Washington still heard the conversation crystal clear in his head. This was the only time he _wished_ for a memory lapse, just so he can forget what he heard for five fucking minutes.

Wash was spending a lot of time the last few days walking around Armonia, it helped him clear his head when things were getting crowded up there. He wanted some way to redeem himself, but… would Kimball even give him the chance to? Who was Wash kidding, of course, she wouldn’t. She didn’t see Wash as a capable soldier anymore. She wasn’t going to trust him to do anything.

Tucker saw Wash walking around Armonia lost in his thoughts, mindlessly kicking a rock down the path. He seemed sad, distant even, since his release from the med bay. He claimed everything was fine whenever anyone asked, but Tucker knew Wash was hiding something. He wanted nothing more than to help Wash, to make him feel better. Tucker didn’t like seeing Wash like this.

A part of him was hurting because Wash was hurting. He wanted Wash to let him in, to let Tucker help take away some of the pain. Tucker would gladly carry some, if not all, of the burden for Wash. But he knew Agent Washington, he was someone who’d rather suffer in silence than subject anyone else to his pain. To Wash, it wasn’t fair to burden other people with his struggles, but he’d help everyone else with theirs in a heartbeat. Tucker admires that about Wash; no matter how badly he was struggling, he’d do anything and everything to help his friends. 

Tucker took a deep breath and approached Wash. If Wash wouldn’t tell him what’s wrong, maybe Tucker could ease the burden in another way. “Hey, Wash, I got a question for ya!” Tucker called out to him.

Wash looked up at Tucker approaching him, “Of course, what’s up?”

“I wanted to do some training later, I could use a sparring partner though. You down?” Tucker asked.

“It’s been a while since I’ve spared, why not? I’ll meet you at the training grounds at 1500?” Wash agreed to the plans with a shrug. Although he seemed casual, he was excited to train. Wash definitely wasn’t excited because he’d be alone with Tucker, no that wasn’t it. 

A wide smile spread on Tucker’s face, “It’s a date then.” Tucker ended the line with a wink before jogging off. And with a single wink, Wash forgot how to breathe.


	3. Part 3:

Wash arrived to the training grounds a few minutes before he was supposed to meet with Tucker and began doing some stretching. Just something enough to get the blood flowing and loosen his muscles. He couldn’t allow himself to pull a muscle and become even more injured. 

“You ready to get your ass kicked?” Tucker smirked as he walked up behind Wash.

Wash rolled his eyes behind his helmet, Tucker’s words knocked him out of his head, “Oh please, how many times have you actually won when we’ve spared?” He sassed.

“That’s only because I let you win,” Tucker’s smirk widened.

“Yeah, sure…” Wash agreed sarcastically. Tucker was making his way to the floor. “What? You’re not going to warm up or anything?”

“Warming up is for chumps. When you’re a pro like me, you’re always ready for the fight!” Tucker bragged.

Wash made his way towards Tucker, “Jesus, you’re starting to sound like Palomo.”

“Ouch, that stings.” Tucker held a hand over his chest in mock hurt.

“Beat me and I’ll take it back.” Wash challenged.

“Deal,” Tucker smirked, finally placing his helmet on his head. The two soldiers settled into a fighting stance waiting to see who would make the first move.

Without much of a surprise to Wash, Tucker charged first. Wash didn’t mind; he always preferred to be on the defensive.

The match was stuck in a stalemate. Neither man was trying their hardest and therefore wasn’t gaining anything on the other. Which was surprising due to Tucker’s usually confident nature and his desire to constantly show off. However, the two didn’t have an audience, there wasn’t anyone to show off to. 

Tucker was easily able to dodge the punch Wash threw. The two soldiers separated from each other. “Come on, Wash, I feel like you’re going easy on me!” Tucker teased.

“Oh, so now you want a challenge?” Wash responded.

Tucker’s response to that was a “bring it on” hand motion. Wash smirked to himself, happy to oblige to Tucker’s request. Wash charged at Tucker and the match really began. This time with the intent to outdo one another.

Wash was able to land a few strong hits on Tucker and Tucker was able to land a few in return. The two of them were having a blast. Not only was this a great work out but now the two were testing each other’s abilities and limits. Something neither of them had in a while. Wash also saw the sparring session as a great distraction. He needed all of his focus on the task at hand in order to beat Tucker. Therefore, he couldn’t be bothered worrying about any other shit.

Tucker ran at Wash feeling confident he’d be able to get a jump on the ex-Freelancer even if it was only for a second. That plan, however, failed when Wash swept his legs out from underneath him and sent Tucker falling to the ground. Wash jumped back into a fighting stance.

Tucker jumped back up quickly, “Oh, you sly fuck.” This time he charged at Wash while screaming, almost like it was a battle cry.

Panic ran through Wash’s mind. He was fighting Tucker. _Actually,_ fighting Tucker. He couldn’t remember why or how he got here all he knew was what he was doing right now. Seeing Tucker charge at him like he was, yelling so angrily, he knew they were fighting each other. There was no other explanation. Who was on the wrong side? Was it him? Did Wash now work for the space pirates? Or was Tucker- No, Tucker would never abandon his friends. Wash was confident in that, Tucker has come so far with them over the years. He’d die for his friends before he betrayed them. Although, Wash never thought he’d betray them either.

But turns out, Kimball was right. Wash was a liability. Now, he was fighting his best friend, the man he loved. He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want to hurt Tucker. God, that was the last thing he _ever_ wanted to do. But if he just stood there, Tucker was going to kill him. Instinct took over. He hit Tucker in the ribs with a roundhouse kick and sent him sprawling.

Wash jumped on top of the teal soldier and pinned him to the ground. Maybe- just maybe Wash could talk Tucker out of fighting with him. Explain that he didn’t know what was going on. Apologize for turning on them. Tucker would listen, right? He’d understand, give Wash another chance, right? Wash had to have that hope. 

“Ow! Shit man, that hurt!” Tucker exclaimed. It all came back to Wash in that moment. Tucker and Wash weren’t fighting; they were sparring. Training. It wasn’t real. He hadn’t fucked up yet. Wash let out the shaky breath he was holding.

“Ha! I win!” Tucker smirked after he got over whatever pain he felt.

“But I have you pinned…?” Wash said, confused. He quirked an eyebrow as he stared down at Tucker. Luckily for Wash, Tucker didn’t seem to notice he hadn’t been all there for a minute. 

“Having you on top of me is always a win in my book. Bow chicka bow wow!” Tucker purred. Wash was thankful for the helmet covering the blush spreading across his face. However, the stuttering sounds that escaped Wash’s mouth were not as easy to hide. He tried to play it off the best he could, which for Wash consists of getting out of there as fast as possible.

Wash finally found his voice, “And… I think we’re done for today.” He said while standing up off of Tucker.

“Awe, come on, Wash, I haven’t had a chance to pin you yet,” Tucker whined while sitting up. He muttered another “bow chicka bow wow” under his breath.

“Nope, we’re done. Thanks for inviting me to spar, I’ll see ya later, Tucker.” Wash said over his shoulder. He grabbed his training bag and began to walk off.

“Ugh, fine, I’ll see you around, buzzkill.” Tucker sighed.

Wash returned to his room. He tossed his helmet aside and fell back against his door as it closed, letting out a long sigh. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what Tucker was doing. What Tucker had been doing since they crash landed on this goddamn planet. Or at least, he thinks he knows what Tucker’s doing. But god only knows if Tucker means any of it.

But… but he couldn’t…

He wanted to, so badly. God, did he want to respond and reciprocate the flirting to Tucker. He couldn’t though… Wash couldn’t help but think that Tucker deserved so much better. Hey, Kimball doubts him… It wouldn’t take long before others started to as well, that is if they didn’t already. Tucker deserved someone who wasn’t so fucked in the head. Someone who wouldn’t be a liability. Who knows what would’ve happened if his memory lapse had put him back into the killing machine, soldier mindset of his Project Freelancer days while sparring with Tucker.

Wash needed to try to move past the feelings and get over him. But… how? 

He buried his face in his hands and slid down to the floor. He couldn’t seem to get Tucker out of his fucking head. 

Wash had to figure something out, all this was doing was hurting himself and, if Wash was reading his flirting correctly, would end up eventually hurting Tucker. Wash couldn’t do that to him. 

What Wash needed right now was to relax, it would help him sort things out. A nice hot shower was first on the list. 

Most of his time in the shower, Wash just stood under the water, letting it flow over his tense muscles.

How the fuck did he manage to forget that it was only a sparring session? In the middle of the fucking session! He remembered Kimball’s words, remembered being in the med bay after the space pirates attacked, remembered everything else except for the fact that he and Tucker were only training.

What would’ve happened if he hadn’t snapped out of it? There were too many “what if’s” to even consider. Wash didn’t want to think about any of it. He got out of the shower and put on fresh sweatpants and a t-shirt, dying his hair with a towel so it wouldn’t drip.

Wash decided to make himself a cup of coffee in the lounge room that the three blue soldiers shared, maybe he’d read one of the books stored there, or he could watch those training below on the grounds. It’d be nice and quiet, no one to disturb him.

However, Wash quickly learned that wasn’t going to be the case when he walked into the lounge and saw Caboose sitting at the table with a very intense look of concentration angled at whatever he happened to be working on.

“Uh, hey Caboose, whatcha working on?” Wash asked, a little thrown off at seeing the soldier there.

Caboose’s head shot up to look at Wash, eyes wide. He then frantically covered whatever he was working on with his arms. “Nothing!” Was Caboose’s desperate and entirely unconvincing reply.

Wash walked closer to Caboose, now curious. Caboose hunched his body to further cover his project from Washington’s view. Wash could see crayons, glue, glitter, and colorful paper from the bits that Caboose wasn’t able to block.

Wash quirked an eyebrow, “Are you making an art project?”

Caboose sighed, “It was supposed to be a surprise but I can’t get the macaroni to stick…” He moved so Wash could see what he was talking about as he spoke. Underneath Caboose was the beginnings of a “Get Well” card addressed to Wash.

“You were making me a “Get Well” card?” Wash asked sitting down in the chair next to Caboose.

“Yeah…” Caboose sighed, “I thought it’d make you feel better even though you’ve been back for a while. I started it after Tucker told me to go back to my room when we were visiting you.”

“Thank you, Caboose. That’s… really sweet of you,” Wash smiled, feeling touched that Caboose was going out of his way to do this for him. “You said that you were having trouble making the macaroni stick,” Caboose nodded, “Let’s see what the problem is.” Caboose nodded again and pushed the paper and macaroni over to Wash.

Wash immediately noticed the first, main, and probably only problem, “Caboose, you’re not supposed to cook the macaroni. You need to use the uncooked pasta.” Wash was honestly surprised Caboose had managed to make the pasta without catching the building on fire in the first place.

“Oh!” Caboose smacked himself upside the head realizing his mistake, “I forgot that!”

“It’s okay, I’m sure there’s more pasta you can use that hasn’t been cooked yet.” Wash consoled him. Caboose nodded, watching as Wash stood up and walked over to the cabinets in the conjoined kitchen.

Tucker stood silently in the doorway, watching Caboose and Wash. Neither man knew he was standing there and he intended to keep it that way. He could simply watch and take everything in. Take in how patient Wash was with Caboose. Take in how Wash took his time to explain things in a way Caboose could understand. Take in how happy Wash was making Caboose, spending quality time with him and how happy Wash was with Caboose, momentarily distracted from all the shit going on in their lives at the moment.

Tucker couldn’t help the warm, fuzzy feeling that grew in his chest. It seemed like every day Wash did something different that made Tucker’s heart swell in a way that couldn’t be explained. And Tucker didn’t care one bit, he just wished the feeling would keep coming forever. He couldn’t help the smile on his face at the sight of the two.

One day…

One day, Tucker wanted to tell him. Tucker wanted to tell Wash how he felt, but it had to be right.

_Blood. Blood was everywhere. It was the only thing he could see. Who was bleeding? Who was hurt? Wash felt the panic begin to rise. One of his friends was hurt. He had to find them. He had to help._

_He heard yelling, screaming, crying. Specifically Tucker; screaming for someone to get help. More specifically to get_ Wash _help._

_Why would he need help? He’s not the one who’s hurt. Right?_

_Carolina stood frozen staring at the ground. Wash followed her line of sight. She was staring at Wash’s body, blood pulsating from the hole in his neck._

_Dear god… he remembered now, but he didn’t want to._

_The scene rapidly replayed in his head._

_ …  _

_Tucker screaming in fear, “Wash, get down!”_

_Bang._

_His delirious reply, “Oh, heyyy Tuc-“_

_Bang._

_ And then… _

**_Bang._**

__

Someone was shaking him as he jumped awake. Heart pounding faster than a human heart should. Wash could feel himself trembling with fear under the person whose hands gripped his shoulders. He couldn’t get that damn image out of his head. The image of his blood everywhere. The image of his body lying there on the ground. The sounds of everyone screaming.

Wash needed it to be gone. He needed it out of his head. He instinctively took his hand and pounded, trying to force the image out. Beat it out of himself. A delicate, yet strong hand grabbed hold of his wrist. Wash looked to the source. Tucker.

“Hey, hey, hey, you’re alright. You’re okay. You’re safe.” Tucker soothed. Wash lunged into Tucker’s arms, clutching to the man like a lifeline.

Tucker reciprocated immediately. His hold was strong, warm, comforting. It was like he was pushing all of Wash’s broken pieces back together.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Tucker whispered, “If you wanna talk about it later, we can. But right now, I’m here for whatever you need.”

Wash took a shaky breath. His eyes squeezed shut, a tear slipping out of the corner. He was so grateful that Tucker was here. That Tucker was always here. Wash wasn’t sure he’d be able to do this on his own. He’s not sure how he did it back in the days of Project Freelancer.

“I kept seeing myself get shot.” Wash whispered out. Tucker probably wouldn’t have heard him if they were farther apart.

Tucker’s arms tightened, “You’re okay. That was back on Earth. You’re on Chorus now. You’re safe here.”

Wash nodded against Tucker’s shoulder, “I know, I just- I didn’t like being back there. There was so much blood and you were screaming and it just kept repeating and I couldn’t get it to stop…” His voice began to break at the end. Tears pooled in his eyes.

Tucker pulled back from Wash and grabbed his face in his hands. This made Wash look into Tucker’s chocolate eyes, grounding him in the moment. “I will be here as long as you need me. What happened to you shouldn’t have happened, and it is not your fault. You know that, right?”

Wash nodded, muttering a quiet “yeah”.

“What do you need? Do you want to talk to take your mind off of it? Would you rather take a walk and maybe get a snack?” Tucker asked, usually Wash liked to talk. It would distract him from whatever he had dreamt about, easing his mind back into sleep mode even though there wasn’t a guarantee that he’d sleep again. 

Wash thought for a moment, debating his options. Tucker could sense he was unsure about something the way he gripped the blanket and bit his lip. He waited patiently for Wash to answer.

“As long as you stay, could we try to go back to sleep? I’m really tired and we have that meeting with Kimball in a few hours.” Was Wash’s reply. Tucker glanced at the clock when Wash mentioned the meeting. It was almost four in the morning.

Tucker nodded, “Of course I’ll stay. Kimball’ll live if we’re a couple minutes late to that damn meeting.”

_Not if she already views you as unreliable…_ Wash thought discouragingly.

The two maneuvered themselves so that way they each had space on the small, standard issue bed. They laid back to back. Wash could feel the heat that radiated from Tucker and found it to be soothing. As soon as the two were settled, Tucker’s stomach growled loud enough to disturb the silence in the room.

Wash laughed, “The only reason you suggested to get a snack is because you’re hungry, isn’t it?”

“Hey, that’s not the only reason, sometimes food is a good distraction.” Tucker defended himself.

“Uh-huh, sure. So, your stomach growling was just a coincidence?” Wash sassed.

“It’s not my fault. They don’t feed a man enough on this planet.” Tucker responded.

Wash rolled his eyes, a smile on his face, “Right, just shut up and go to sleep, asshole, we’ll get food in the morning.”

“Buzzkill…” Tucker muttered affectionately.

Wash closed his eyes, knowing he’d be able to get a decent sleep for once.

The meeting with Kimball was to brief the Reds and Blues, along with the lieutenants, about their next mission. They received some helpful intel from the space pirate they arrested on their last mission, all thanks to Dr. Grey, about some potential hideouts where other factions of pirates could be hiding. However, the guy couldn’t guarantee they’d find anything. The groups moved around a lot and didn’t leave behind much, if any, of a trail.

The Reds and Blues’ mission was to scout two of these locations, see if anyone was hanging around or if anything was left behind. If they found any pirates it was preferable to arrest them. Kimball wanted a minimum loss of life. The more pirates they found, the more potential for intel. 

“These assholes have given us enough problems; I don’t see why they get to live.” Tucker pointed out.

“Because if we kill them, we’re no better than they are.” Kimball retorted.

“I fucking hate that you’re right all the time.” He grumbled back after contemplating her statement.

“I’m going to split you into two squads. One squad will search the cave areas the prisoner provided us with. The other squad will go to these coordinates in the jungles,” She pointed to the areas on the holographic map as she mentioned the two locations.

“Squad A, you will be heading to the caves. I will warn you that some areas of the caves may not be stable, so be careful. Refrain from the use of any explosives or anything that will make a loud, sudden noise if at all possible. This squad will consist of lieutenants Bitters and Jensen, captains Caboose and Tucker, and Agent Carolina. Squad B, you’ll be heading to the jungles. They’re dense and quite large. Be sure to stick close to one another so no one gets separated, such as with the last mission. The last thing we need is for the pirates to take advantage of dispersed troops again. Lieutenants Palomo and Smith, captains Grif and Simmons, and Private Donut will make up this squad.” Kimball finished.

“What?! Sending my men out in the field without their leader. This is an outrage! Unacceptable! By George, what do you have to say to defend yourself?!” Sarge exclaimed dramatically.

“I need you to stay behind and help me with Lopez. I think I have a way to fix his speech module so we’ll be able to understand him.” Dr. Grey explained.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I’d much rather work on my pride and joy than go on a useless recon mission,” Sarge agreed but quickly added, “No offense, men.”

“Whatever.” Came Grif’s reply.

“Eh, none taken.” Simmons replied.

“You all are dismissed, go gather any supplies you may need. You leave in an hour.” Kimball ordered. The others began to leave the room muttering amongst themselves. Wash had the sneaking suspicion he wasn’t left off a squad on accident.

“Uh… Kimball, may I ask why I wasn’t put on a squad? I could assist either team. I have knowledge of the jungles or I could help Tucker keep Caboose’s noise level down in the caves.” Wash inquired.

“Agent Washington, I’m ordering you remain here in the capital. I retrieved some files from the prisoner’s HUD, I need someone to look through them to see if there’s anything useful.” Kimball’s voice was quite monotone. The way she spoke made it seem she was back in the mindset of general of the New Republic, not Wash’s friend.

Wash couldn’t help the pang of disappointment that he felt, but he needed to handle this professionally, “Of course, just give me the files on a hard drive and I can go-“

“No, I need you to search the files directly from my computer. I need to know immediately if you find anything. The easiest way for that to happen is if the files never leave my presence.” Kimball had cut off Wash. Wash was taken aback by her words; it was now clear what she was doing.

She wanted Wash close to keep an eye on him. Kimball didn’t trust Wash enough to be out in the field and didn’t trust him to have the intel on his own. She wanted surveillance on him in case anything was to happen. He was just a liability after all. 

It took Wash a second for that to sink in and respond, “Yes, ma’am. I’ll get right on that in a minute, I just- need some fresh air.” With that Wash walked out of Kimball’s office, head hung low. Wash headed to the only place he could think of where he knew he could have a few minutes of peace and quiet. 

The cliff overlooked most of the city, it was quite beautiful to be honest. Wash heard footsteps approaching. Glancing back, he found it was Sarge.

“I thought I’d find you up here.” Sarge started out. Wash didn’t say anything as the Colonel came to stand next to him.

“Beautiful, ain’t it? I’d say it’s almost as beautiful as a bleeding blue.” Sarge commented. Wash once again didn’t have a response.

Sarge sighed, “I heard what Kimball said to you, Wash.”

It was Wash’s turn to sigh, he looked down at the ground, “She doesn’t trust me anymore. All because I can’t remember things sometimes.”

“Kimball does seem to be a little harsh, but the one thing you’ve got to remember, there Agent Washington, is that we’re all on your side. So, what, you’ve got some remembering issues? That doesn’t make you any less of a capable soldier. Every soldier out there has their own issues to work through. Sometimes they’re solitary issues, meant for one man and one man alone to face. Other times, it’s a team effort. Yours would classify as the latter. Sure, one person may doubt you now, but that’s not going to stop the group that still believes in you.” Sarge did his best to comfort Wash.

Wash let his words sink in. Sarge did have a point. However, Wash couldn’t stop that nagging, recurring thought. Kimball turned her back on Wash at the drop of a hat. What would stop others from doing the same someday? Once they saw how broken, how fucked up, and utterly _hopeless_ Wash really was, they’d do the same thing. It was only a matter of time at this point. 

“Now, I would love to stick around and take in the scenery with you, but I’ve got to get started helping out Dr. Grey. It’s rude to keep a lady waiting, especially a lady as screwy as her.” Sarge announced before turning and beginning his trek to Grey’s office.

“Hey, Sarge…” Wash called after him. Sarge stopped for a moment and looked at Wash, “Thank you.” Wash offered a small smile of gratitude.

The gruff old soldier nodded and returned the smile in response.

Wash looked over the city once again, sighed to himself, and muttered, “Well, I better get started on those files.”


	4. Part 4:

Wash didn’t find anything that useful on the files. There were some old documents about weapons shipments back from when Felix and Locus ran the show but nothing current.

Since Kimball couldn’t make any use of anything, at least as of now, she dismissed Wash. He sat down in the mess hall eating a late lunch. Well, he was more or less eating, in all honesty he was just pushing his food around his plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite, despite it having been hours since his last meal. When the table jolted, it caused Wash to look up from his plate. He saw Grif sitting across from him, Donut and Simmons were close behind. Donut settled on the spot next to Grif, Simmons came and sat next to Wash.

“What did Kimball make you do?” Grif asked.

Wash shrugged, “She needed me to sort through the files we took from the space pirate’s helmet. There wasn’t anything useful, at least as for what we could see.”

“Boooooring.” Grif said dragging out the word. He was beginning to pick at his food, trying to decide where he should start.

“Trust me, I would’ve liked to be in the field with you guys, but it was a direct order from Kimball to remain here. Did you guys find anything?” Wash did his best to play off Kimball ordering him to remain behind.

“No, once we got so far, it was too risky to go further. We would’ve lost all contact with the city and it was too dense to move through.” Simmons explained.

“Yeah, seriously that jungle was almost as dense as Smith’s devotion to Caboose.” Grif stated the analogy. The other three chuckled.

“Wash, I’ve always been curious about something.” Grif offered the segway.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” Wash asked.

“What were you like back when you were in Project Freelancer?” Grif asked.

Wash thought back to his days in the Project. Some memories were good, others… not so good. “Well… when I got onto the leaderboard, that’s when I became a part of Carolina’s team, or Team Alpha as we were called. We went on the most dangerous, top-secret missions. Our team was the only team the director trusted. However, I was the rookie, the new kid, no one listened to me. And I certainly wasn’t taken seriously when anyone did manage to listen to me.” Wash chuckled.

He opened his mouth to say something else but his entire thought process was gone. It seemed as though someone took an eraser and got rid of everything he just said, leaving no trace of it behind. What had he just been talking about? _God dammit,_ Wash thought, _how is this happening in the middle of a fucking conversation?!_

Simmons and Grif shared a look with Donut. The three men figured out what was going on, based on the look on Wash’s face, but they weren’t quite sure what to do or say. Grif decided to step up and say something first.

“So, basically, you’re telling me you were the Donut of Project Freelancer?” Grif asked.

It took Wash a second but that question caused him to remember, he remembered that he had been talking about his P.F. days and that he _was_ the Donut of P.F. That’s what he was talking about.

He shook his head slightly, to snap himself back into the moment, “Yeah, I guess I was.” He tried his best to play this off, act like it wasn’t a big deal but Wash was hurting. It stung that he was forgetting things so easily and so quickly, but what could he do about it?

“Hey… What’s that supposed to mean?” Donut asked.

“It means-“ Grif was about to sarcastically explain when there was a commotion a couple tables away. Everyone turned to look at the source of the noise.

Lieutenant Jensen was being harassed by three other soldiers. All three used to belong to the Federal Army before the two sides joined forces. To say they still weren’t over the joinment might be a bit of an understatement.

“So, what’d you do when the space pirates showed up Katie? Did you run off and hid like the coward you are?” One of the guys asked.

“Yo, she probably did, she was probably all like ‘AHHH-ack! Choked on my spit!’” Another guy added in, imitating her lisp at the end. Jensen was doing her best to ignore these guys but just by the look on her face you could tell they were starting to get to her.

The three guys roared with laughter until the table they were at was sliced in half, effectively separating them from Jensen. The glow of an energy sword reflected off the table. Jensen didn’t react to the activity except for looking to the source of the sword. The three other cadets jumped to attention, immediately stopping their shenanigans. This also caused the entire rest of the mess hall to abruptly stop, silence quickly filling the room.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” Tucker roared.

“Sir, we were just-“ One cadet began.

“Shut the fuck up, cadet! Were you three there on that supply run when the squad got jumped by the mercs?!” Tucker asked angrily. The cadets weren’t entirely sure if they were supposed to answer, so they shared a quick look with one another.

“Were you?!” Tucker repeated.

“No, sir!” All three replied.

“Then stop making fucking assumptions as to what happened! And last time I checked Lieutenant Jensen is a superior officer to you three. You will apologize immediately and report to the training grounds tomorrow at 0500 hours to start your training!” Tucker ordered. There was a look of horror that crossed each cadet's face.

“But, Captain, that’s three hours earlier than usual…” One dared to say.

“Did I fucking stutter?!” Tucker raised his energy sword, eyes still burning with anger. Sure, Tucker may not exactly be known for his acts of kindness but Jensen was a good kid and she didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

“No, sir!” The cadet responded.

“Good, now apologize and leave, that’s a direct order!” Tucker left no room for argument.

One cadet spoke for the three of them, “Lieutenant Jensen, I would like to apologize for the actions of me and my comrades. They were childish and inappropriate and it won’t happen again, ma’am.”

Jensen nodded, accepting the apology. Tucker remained next to Jensen, arms crossed, sword still glowing. Since the apology satisfied Jensen, that was all the approval Tucker needed.

“Now, get the fuck out!” Tucker ordered. The cadets hurried out of the room.

Once they were out of sight, people went back to their previous conversations. Tucker checked on Jensen.

“Are you alright? Man, why’d my squad have to get filled with all the assholes?!” He asked then commented to himself.

“I’m okay, Captain Tucker. Thank you for sticking up for me though. Not a lot of people would’ve done that.” Jensen said sadly.

“It’s no problem, really,” Tucker caught sight of Simmons sitting with Wash and the others, “Hey, Simmons is over there with Wash, Grif, and Donut. Why don’t we go join them? I kind of destroyed this table anyways.” Simmons and the others overheard this so Simmons smiled and waved to further encourage Jensen.

Jensen nodded, looking at the table sliced in half, “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jensen took a seat next to Simmons and Tucker sat across from her. The conversation continued amongst everyone. Everyone except Wash, that is. His mind just began to spiral. No one really seemed to notice either. It gave him more of a reason to quietly excuse himself and go back to his room.

Wash made it back to his room without his head falling apart so that was a good thing he supposed. However, now he was left to unravel alone.

Why did this have to happen to him? Why does it seem like everyday he forgets more and more? Why couldn’t he stop it? How’d he manage to forget an entire conversation in the middle of it?!

And then there was Tucker. He jumped in to defend Jensen without a second thought. And then, after it was over, he made sure she was alright rather than immediately leaving. Tucker wasn’t looking for any validation or recognition or glory, he helped Jensen because he cares and because it was the right thing to do. It was one of the many qualities that made Wash fall for Tucker in the first place. Sure, he may act like he doesn’t care about anyone to seem cool but beyond that exterior, Tucker has a heart of gold.

He was so _good_. He deserved so much. He deserved the best if Wash was completely honest. The best of anything and everything the universe had to offer. But… Wash knew he couldn’t give Tucker that. Even if he were perfectly healthy, Wash didn’t even come close to meeting that. But, now with all his issues, how could he?

How could he give Tucker the best if he always forgets things? How could he give Tucker anything he deserves if Wash could barely give himself the basic necessities? How could Wash be someone Tucker relied on when Wash can’t even rely on himself?

It wouldn’t be fair to Tucker. It wouldn’t be fair to hold Tucker back from what he deserves just because Wash wanted him to. Wash couldn’t do that. It would only cause more pain in the long run and Wash couldn’t do that to Tucker.

Wash wasn’t even sure if he had a chance with Tucker to begin with but regardless, he needed to get rid of these feelings. Not only could they get in the way of the friendship between the two but what if Tucker got hurt because of one of Wash’s memory lapses? Because Wash couldn’t remember what side he was on? Couldn’t remember who was a friend and who was a foe. Wash would never forgive himself. The only question now was how to get rid of the feelings?

Well, there was one thing that Wash could do that might potentially work. When you don’t want to deal with something: distance yourself from it.

About a week has passed since the incident in the mess hall and Tucker couldn’t help but think Wash was avoiding him. Wash was always training with Carolina or helping Kimball with God knows what. Whenever Tucker approached him, Wash would simply head in the other direction making up some excuse.

Who knows? Maybe Tucker was just overthinking it. Maybe it was just bad timing. Maybe it was just a coincidence that Wash was busy whenever Tucker tried to approach him. Wash wasn’t mad at him or anything, right? Tucker hasn’t done anything wrong, well at least he thinks he hasn’t or at least hasn’t recently. He couldn’t remember anything that could’ve pissed off the ex-freelancer.

But if Wash _wasn’t_ mad at Tucker, then Tucker was worried. He wanted to help Wash get through whatever was going on. Because something was obviously going on, that much was clear. But that man was stubborn, if he didn’t want help, he wasn’t going to get help. If Wash was hurting, Tucker wanted nothing more than to make that pain go away. Wash just had to let him in.

Wash didn’t like the fact that he had been avoiding Tucker all week. And, fuck, was it hard. He didn’t realize how much of his daily routine was intertwined with Tucker and how much he relied on Tucker being there. Wash was terrified to go to sleep at night because of his nightmares. He knew Tucker would be there in a heartbeat if Wash started screaming in his sleep. It would be incredibly difficult to avoid him if that happened. Training was different too. He was used to seeing Tucker in the training room almost daily. Even though the two hadn’t planned it, it was always nice to have Tucker to talk to while training. Wash had to rearrange his entire training schedule just so he wouldn’t see Tucker. Instead of training late mornings when Tucker does, he was now training in the mid-afternoon when Carolina trains. 

Training with Carolina was… interesting, to say the least. It had been so long, Wash forgot what it was like to train with her. It was still ingrained in her to get better, to be better, to keep pushing harder and harder, even after all this time. Wash had still taken his training seriously in recent years but Carolina was on a whole different level. Some habits die hard he supposed. 

However, trying to remain optimistic, there did seem to be a positive that came as a result of this situation. Since, Wash needed something to distract himself from Tucker, he focused his attention on Kimball and training. If Kimball needed an errand, Wash was there to do it in an instant. If a group of soldiers needed help training, Wash volunteered to train them for the day. It was a good way to start regaining Kimball’s trust, it would take more time but Wash would take as much time as he needed.

Wash was happy to note that he hasn’t suffered any significant memory lapses in the past several days, at least as far as he could tell. No one had pointed any out to him. The lapses he did have over the past week were things like, forgetting his password to his data pad, forgetting what time he and Carolina arrived to the training room, and forgetting if he had already brushed his teeth that morning. These were things that Wash could either figure out on his own or if he couldn’t, these things weren’t important. Wash could reset his password, ask Carolina how long they’d been training, or brush his teeth again. He wasn’t forgetting the people he cared about. He wasn’t forgetting his past. He was forgetting the small things and although it still wasn’t ideal, Wash could live with it.

Tucker felt determined today; he wasn’t going to brush off when Wash ignored him or made an excuse to leave. He would keep trying until he was told to fuck off or Wash actually talked to him. Tucker knew it wasn’t going to be easy though. That was made clear from the start.

He found Wash in the mess hall that morning trying to figure out what to eat for breakfast. Tucker noticed Wash before Wash noticed him which was probably for the better. Tucker noticed that Wash wasn’t as tense as he had been the past several days. He took a moment to appreciate that fact before calling out to Wash.

“Hey, Wash, you got a sec?” Tucker asked walking beside the man.

Wash immediately tensed, “Actually, I’ve got to go help Kimball with troop assessments.” He hastily grabbed a bagel and began to make his way out.

“What about later?” Tucker pushed, following Wash.

“Carolina and I are going to test out a new training routine with a couple of squads.” Wash responded quickly.

“And tonight?” Tucker had to nearly jog to keep up with Wash.

“Sure, maybe. I- gotta go.” And with that Wash was gone. Tucker now stood just outside the mess hall watching him walk away. So much for being determined. 

“Everyone knows that ‘maybe’ is just code for ‘no’…” Tucker muttered to himself. He turned and walked back into the mess hall for some breakfast.

Carolina found Tucker in the mess hall not long after Wash rushed out. Tucker was sitting by himself, pushing his food around his plate, with his hand holding up his head.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this down.” Carolina observed as she sat across from him with her own breakfast.

Tucker sighed, “Have you noticed that Wash has been avoiding me? Maybe I’m just overthinking it or maybe it’s just bad timing, but it seems like every time I go near him, he’s always rushing to go somewhere else.” He pushed his plate away and rested his chin on his arms on the table.

Carolina hummed, “That does seem to be the case as of recently.” Carolina wasn’t going to lie; Wash did seem to be avoiding Tucker. And she was sure that if she saw it, the others could see it too. Wash wasn’t known for being the most subtle.

Tucker sat up, slowly. His face twisted into something of concern, maybe fear? “Has he said anything to you? Did I- do anything to make him avoid me?”

Carolina’s face softened, “Tucker… I doubt you did something to upset him. Wash would have said something if that were the case.” She wasn’t the best at emotional things but Tucker obviously needed some comfort right now.

Tucker nodded at her words, not fully believing them but also not sure how to respond. He looked off to the side and began biting his nails, something Carolina picked up on instantly.

She knew that Tucker and Wash were close but this behavior was indicating a whole different level. “Tucker, what’s going on with you?” Carolina was genuinely concerned at this point. She could even hear the light tapping underneath the table from Tucker’s heel repeatedly hitting the floor.

“I know you said that he’s not mad at me, but I can’t shake the feeling that this is somehow my fault. Wash usually lets me help him with shit and this time he isn’t, I can’t even get close enough to him to ask what’s going on. He’s obviously not okay but I just wish he’d let me in.” Tucker explained. 

“First, I want you to take a nice deep breath for me,” Carolina began and Tucker obliged, she believed she had it figured out at this point, “Would it help if I talked to Wash? Him and I are going to be training some squads later, I could talk to him there.”

Tucker nodded, “Could you do that? Please? And if it is me, could you find out what I can do to fix it?”

Carolina gave him a small comforting smile, “Yeah, I can do that.”

The training routine Wash and Carolina were testing was designed to increase stamina and endurance. One of the best ways to do that was distance running. The two ex-freelancers were watching the two squads run laps around the training grounds. Carolina figured this was her chance to talk to Wash.

“Can I ask you a question, Wash?” She began.

“Yeah, what is it?” He said, his eyes didn’t leave the jogging soldiers.

Carolina really had no way to ask this question nicely and she certainly wasn’t one to beat around the bush, so she just came right out and said it, “Why have you been avoiding Tucker?”

His head snapped in her direction as the words left her mouth. There wasn’t any malice behind her words, she seemed concerned more than anything. “What are you talking about?” He was able to finally force out.

Even though she was wearing her helmet, Wash knew her enough to know that Carolina rolled her eyes, “Wash, we can all see it. Why are you avoiding him?”

Wash looked back to the troops. What lap were they on again? He lost count and he’s sure Carolina did to, but that didn’t really matter. More running wouldn’t kill them. He thought for a moment before sighing, “Feelings are getting in the way of things and I… I can’t do that to Tucker...”

It took her a second to fully understand what Wash meant. There was a lot that was left unsaid but Carolina heard every word. “Wash…” She began sadly, she took a moment to think before continuing, “I don’t think pushing Tucker away is helping either of you…”

Wash looked at Carolina again. Was Tucker hurting, too? Guilt filled his heart.

Wash didn’t say anything so Carolina spoke again, “I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now but pushing Tucker away isn’t going to solve anything. He’s worried about you and wants to help. Tucker’s not the kind of person to force you to say something you don’t want to, but let him in and let him help.”

Wash looked back to the ground as she spoke, taking in her words. His head was telling him to ignore her words, that going back to Tucker, as she was suggesting, was a bad idea. That it would only lead to more pain. However, his heart was telling him to listen to her for crying out loud. _You’re hurting, Tucker’s hurting, going back to him will fix things._ He nodded when she finished, “You’re right... I guess I should talk to him later?” While she did have a point, to be honest, it didn’t take much to convince Wash to go back to Tucker. 

“You should probably get on that. Like now.” Carolina pushed.

Wash wasn’t expecting her to suggest he do so now, especially in the middle of running a training session, “Yeah- yeah, I’ll do that.” He said to Carolina a bit awkwardly, he then shouted to the troops, “Alright cadets, that’s enough for today, you’re all dismissed.” As soon as the words left the CO’s mouth, many dropped to the ground out of exhaustion while others hunched over panting. Wash began to walk away to go find Tucker when he stopped and turned back to Carolina for a moment, “Thank you, by the way.”

Carolina gave him a nod to say ‘you’re welcome’. She smiled as Wash jogged off. Those two oblivious idiots were so hopelessly in love she's surprised it didn’t smack either of them in the face. 

Wash really wasn’t sure how to go about this. If he had finished the training session, he would’ve had more time to figure out what to say. But no, Carolina basically ordered him to fix things with Tucker now, not later. He paced around inside his room thinking. He didn’t plan on telling Tucker that the reason Wash had been acting strangely was because he didn’t know how to handle his feelings, those feelings being the fact that he was in love with him. However, he needed some excuse as to why he had been avoiding the teal soldier. But it needed to be believable, Tucker was pretty good at picking up on other people’s bullshit being a frequent bullshitter himself.

“Maybe I could… no that wouldn’t work. Tucker’s stupid but he isn’t _that_ stupid.” Wash mumbled aloud. He couldn’t come up with anything that would work at the moment. He stopped pacing.

“Ya know what, I’ll just wing it,” He turned towards his door and stopped dead in his tracks. Wash wasn’t known for “winging” things. He always had a plan and several backups incase Plans A, B, C, or D failed. You wanna know who wings things frequently though? The Reds and Blues. “Jesus Christ, I’ve spent too much time with these idiots.” Wash muttered as he reached for the door handle to go find Tucker.

As he yanked the door open, Wash realized finding Tucker would be easier than he expected seeing as Tucker was standing outside of Wash’s room, fist raised to knock. There was concern written all over his face. Worry lines were deep and defined from stress.

It took Wash a second to remember that he was only wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants so Tucker would be able to see and read his facial expressions. He couldn’t let the guilt and pain he felt reflect on his face. Wash knew that Tucker felt like this because he was worried about him. He did his best to try and play it off. “Ya know, stress isn’t a good look for you.” Wash thought starting with a sarcastic comment might help them both feel at ease. 

“Are you mad at me?” Tucker completely ignored what Wash said.

“What?” Wash’s reply sounded shocked. 

Tucker took a breath and looked down at the floor. He wrung his hands together tightly. “I know you’ve been avoiding me, Wash, and I just wanna know was it something I did or something I said? Did I do something to piss you off and make you ignore me?” He looked back up at Wash with… was that fear in his eyes?

“What? Tucker- That’s not- What on earth made you think that?” Wash couldn’t help but feel like complete shit. Not only was Tucker worried about his well-being but Wash somehow managed to make him believe it was his fault.

Tucker shrugged, “I don’t know, I just kept thinking about it and it’s not like you were avoiding everyone, it was… just me. And I know I piss you off sometimes, okay well I piss you off a lot, but I couldn’t figure out what it was this time that made you _this_ pissed. I just assumed the worst I guess.” He still seemed to be a little tense but more relaxed than when Wash first opened the door.

“I’m not mad at you, Tucker. Why I was being dodgy… isn’t important but I want to apologize. Carolina told me that you were worried and I shouldn’t have pushed you away when you were only trying to help. So, I’m sorry.” Wash explained. Hopefully Tucker wouldn’t ask further about Wash avoiding him.

Tucker’s face seemed to lighten up in the blink of an eye, “So… we cool?” He asked just to confirm.

Wash nodded, “Yeah, we’re cool.”

“Sick, hey, I managed to find some really old sci-fi movies a while back, you wanna come watch a couple with me and we can make fun of the shitty CGI and dick around for a while?” Tucker asked. He pointed his thumb in the direction of the lounge room.

“Sure, a night off couldn’t hurt.” Wash grabbed a hoodie from his bedpost and followed Tucker down the hallway.

“Hold up, stop the fucking presses! I got Captain Buzzkill to do something fun!” Tucker mocked.

“Shut the fuck up, Lavernius!” Wash shot back.

“Oh, so we’re using first names now, David?” Tucker sassed. Wash couldn’t help but laugh at that. _Yeah,_ Wash thought as he laughed, _this is nice._


	5. Part 5:

_ Wash walked cautiously. His feet made no noise as he moved atop the fallen brush. Stealth was of the utmost importance if they were going to take down these assholes. He couldn’t help but look around, paranoid he was being followed. He couldn’t shake that feeling, the feeling that someone was following him. _

_“Come out, come out wherever you are…” Wash whispered to himself. The grip on his pistol tightened. They fought the space pirates once and they would certainly do it again. The Reds and Blues had all of Chorus on their side this time. There’s no way they could lose._

_Wash rounded a corner quickly, pistol raised and ready to fire if needed but… what he found wasn’t something he was hoping for._

_Donut laid sprawled out on the ground in a pool of his own blood. The pink soldier may have survived many near death experiences in the past, but somehow Wash knew he was gone for real this time._

_“I’m sorry, buddy…” Wash took a moment to honor his friend before moving on. He had to find those… those guys. He had to find those he was fighting._

_As he moved, he found more dead soldiers. Many were Chorus citizens; he could tell based on the standard issue armor the troops were wearing. The ones that stuck out to him were the colorful ones, his friends._

_Slowly he found them one by one, all of them gone. Dead. There was Sarge and Doc, Kai, Grif. Each of them Wash paid tribute too. They were his friends, when he stumbled upon another body it just gave him more motivation to keep moving, even if he wasn’t sure what or who he was moving towards._

_Next, he found Sarg-, wait that wasn’t right. He already found him and the armor color was wrong. Sarge wore standard issue red, this soldier wore maroon. Who did he know that wore maroon? He came up short with a name but he decided to give the man a moment of silence to honor him before moving on._

_A soldier in standard issue blue was what followed, surrounded by party confetti._ That’s impractical on the battlefield, _he couldn’t help but think. He figured it wasn’t worth the time to give the moment of silence, he had to move on._

_He looked up across the battlegrounds, two bright beacons lay in the distance, both teal in color. He approached them cautiously. As he got closer, he can tell that both were soldiers. The first a girl, he could see the long, red hair sticking out from beneath her helmet. The other was a man._

_The man had lost his helmet during the battle, so he could see into the man’s lifeless, chocolate eyes. They stared stiffly at the sky. The man’s dreads laid fanned out randomly around his head, like an asymmetrical frame. Blood stained the teal armor around the dagger lodged in the man’s chest._

_However, that’s not what he initially noticed. What he noticed first was the pain he felt in his heart. Why, though? He didn’t know this man. There’s no connection between the two of them other than they were fighting in the same war. He was probably some special ops guy, hired to help._ Some help he turned out to be, _he thought. The second thing he noticed was the sword, still glowing, in the man’s cold hand. Definitely some kind of alien tech. If this man possessed something like this and managed to be taken down by a_ ** _dagger_** _, what did that mean for himself?_

_The fear and panic began to rise in his throat. They were coming for him. Everyone else was dead, gone. He was all alone. And they’d find him. Who? He didn’t know. But he knew that they were coming._

_Watching._

_Waiting._

_And he was their next target._

__

He woke up with a scream, covered in sweat. He couldn’t remember exactly what he was dreaming about but all he knew was that it wasn’t good. People dying, people that he had been fighting with in his dream. It wasn’t anybody he knew though. He didn’t recognize anybody he found. He just remembered that someone or something was coming for him. He had to act. He had to save himself, hide from what was coming. But who was coming? There was pressure on his shoulders, someone was holding him. 

“Wash, hey, hey, it’s okay; you’re safe. Hey, come on, man, look at me!” The dark-skinned man holding his shoulders said. His eyes quickly scanned the room he was in. A bed he had been sleeping in, dresser against the wall, and a small closet in the corner. Simple. His eyes settled on the chocolate eyes of the man beside him who was still holding his shoulders. There was deep concern behind them. Those eyes… they were… _familiar._

His brain jumped into fight or flight mode. He leaned away from the man’s touch. His reflexes were slow in his dazed state. 

Tucker could tell by the look on Wash’s face, that something wasn’t right. Wash backed away from his touch. Red flag. Wash always accepted Tucker’s help after a nightmare, no matter what. 

“Hey, David, come on look at me. Look at me and listen. You are safe. You’re on Chorus, in your room. Whatever you saw, whatever you dreamt wasn’t real. You’re safe. What do you need?” Tucker spoke gently and patiently but there was a sense of urgency. He needed Wash to snap back to reality. 

The confusion didn’t lift from Wash’s grey eyes. 

The man beside him took his hands off his shoulders and held his hands out so they never left his field of view. He spoke calmly and gently. David. _Who?_ Chorus. _Where’s that?_

He didn’t understand anything this man was saying and his head was telling him to be cautious. Telling him to attack, or try and escape, just do something. He didn’t know this man; he shouldn’t listen to him. For all he knew this was who he was supposed to be fighting, who was coming for him. But his heart was telling him to trust the man. 

Tucker didn’t know what to do. Confusion was still clouding Wash’s eyes. “Come on, Wash. Please talk to me…” Tucker let the desperation and concern fill his voice. 

The concern turned into desperation behind the man’s eyes. This threw him off. He began to question whether fight or flight was the appropriate response. He stopped and began to think to himself, slowly now looking around the room again. Looking around _his_ room with the hoodie hung over the bedpost, the “Get Well” card hung up on the wall made by… Caboose, _yeah, Caboose made that, that’s right_ , and the old skateboard leaning against the dresser. This was his room on Chorus. He was here with the Reds and Blues and Carolina after they saved the universe from unraveling. The universe and time began to unravel because they saved him from being shot which created a paradox and… and he has brain damage. _Wash_ has brain damage. 

“Tucker…?” Wash asked, everything finally sinking in. The one thing that kept repeating itself in his head was thank god his instincts were delayed.

Relief flooded Tucker’s face, “Yeah, Wash, it’s me... Is there anything you need?” 

He _needed_ to remember. He remembered now, but he didn’t before… he couldn’t… he couldn’t remember _anything…_

It was all…

Gone. 

“Goddammit!” Wash yelled as he hurled his pillow across his room. It smacked into the wall and dropped to the floor. Tucker jumped back at the outburst. 

Wash buried his head in his arms which he folded on his knees, making himself as small as possible. 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Tucker consoled him. He moved closer beside Wash and rubbed a hand up and down his back in a soothing manner. “Whatever it is you can get through it, just like always.” 

“I can’t… not this time...” Wash mumbled. 

“What are you talking about? Of course, you c-”

Wash shot up to look Tucker in the eyes, cutting him off, “No, Tucker! I can’t!” His tone may have sounded aggressive but only Tucker could see the fear in Washington’s eyes. 

Wash seemed to sink further into himself, returning to his previous position. He wouldn’t look at Tucker. 

“I thought they were getting better but turns out they’re only getting worse… The memory lapses, I mean… It seems like every day I forget more and more and I’m starting to forget the big things now… I couldn’t remember Chorus, the Reds and Blues, Carolina, you- For crying out loud, I had no fucking clue who I was!” He brushed a hand roughly through his hair as he straightened up. “I was only able to snap out of it because I listened to- to _something_ in me that was telling me to trust you. How on earth am I supposed to just ‘get through this’?”

Tucker didn’t have a response to Wash’s words, he couldn’t relate to what Wash was feeling. There wasn’t anything Tucker could say to help. Wash curled in on himself once more. His mind seemed to be spiraling more by the second. Why was Tucker here for him? He couldn’t remember Tucker, he couldn’t even remember himself. It seemed like Tucker was putting himself in harm’s way whenever he talked to Wash. One of these days, Wash might not be able to stop himself from acting on instinct. And if he were to- hurt Tucker… Wash would never forgive himself. Why does this small part of his brain try to convince him that there’s still a chance between him and Tucker? Why does he still have  _ hope _ that this could work? Of course it won’t work. Tucker couldn’t possible love him back, why would he want to? Why would  _ anybody  _ want to? Wash couldn’t do this anymore. “You can do so much better…” He breathed out. He hadn’t exactly meant for Tucker to hear, but he still did. 

“What do you mean?” Tucker’s voice was curious, he didn’t want to push Wash away.

“Oh, come on, isn’t it obvious?” Wash snorted a sarcastic laugh. There wasn’t any going back. Wash was hurting, he felt like he was falling apart at the seams. Everything was just spiraling out of control. 

“No, Wash, it isn’t... at least not to me. What do you mean?” 

“You! You could do so much better!” 

“I could do so much better with what, Wash? What are you talking about?” Tucker had no idea where Wash was going with this. He tried to remain as calm and patient as he could.

“-Than me…” Wash’s voice broke and Tucker could see tears in the corner of  his eyes. 

“What…?” Tucker’s voice was soft, once again Wash wouldn’t look at him. 

“You could do so much better- you _deserve_ someone so much better. All I would do is slow you down, hell I already do that. People have to constantly remind me what the hell is going on because I can’t fucking remember. And who knows maybe I’ve been reading your flirty comments and sexual remarks all wrong, maybe you just see me as some quick fuck. Another tally on your body count. Or maybe you don’t even see me as that much.” Wash rambled on but Tucker began to tune it out, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 

“Honestly, that wouldn’t even surprise me. I don’t think people like me get to be in love--” He stopped when he felt a set of warm, soft lips on his. _Tucker’s_ warm, soft lips on his. As much as he wanted to pull away and stop this, stop everything, because he didn’t deserve to be kissing Tucker, Tucker shouldn’t be here wasting his time kissing Wash, he couldn’t help himself as he melted into Tucker, eyes fluttering closed. Even if Wash had tried to pull away, Tucker’s hand rested gently on Wash’s cheek, thumb brushing across his cheek bone, holding him in place. 

It was different than how Wash had imagined kissing Tucker would be, the several few times it crossed his mind. He imagined Tucker’s kisses would be rough and sloppy, with lots of tongue. That style would certainly match how Tucker acts publically. However, it was entirely the opposite, he was gentle and soft. Almost as if that entire public persona didn’t exist. Wash could feel himself relaxing more and more as time went on. 

Tucker pulled away first, even though the room was dark, there was a slight blush across Wash’s freckled cheeks. 

“At least you stopped rambling…” Tucker smirked at the blond soldier, which earned him a chuckle from the man. 

“Is that what’s been bothering you lately? Why you were avoiding me last week? Because you think that you… don’t deserve this…” Tucker ducked down to be closer to Wash’s field of view. His eyes never leaving the man once. 

Wash looked down, his eyes never leaving his blanket that he was picking at with his fingers. 

“David… I care about you. God, do I care about you. No matter how it may seem, I can promise you that you’re more than just a tally on a body count. That shit doesn’t matter when it comes to you. I may talk a big game but I was never doing any of this just to get in your pants. When I thought the Federal Army was holding you captive, I was so scared I’d never see you again. I couldn’t imagine doing all of this,” Tucker vaguely gestured around Wash’s room, “without you, I don’t think I would’ve been able to… And when you were in the med bay after saving Bitters and Palomo, I was there as soon as Grey let me in. And I never left your side because I was _so_ worried and I wanted to make sure you were okay, no matter how many times Grey told me you were. And you think that just because you’re a little damaged in the head you don’t deserve to be happy…” 

“Oh please, we both know I’m more than ‘a little’ damaged.” Wash snorted in a self deprecating manner. 

“So!? My point still stands, you can’t control half the shit that goes on in your head, Wash! No one views you as any less capable because of this…”

“Kimball does! All she sees when she looks at me is a liability. I heard her say it herself to Grey. And just look at how she treats me now; she refuses to let me go on missions, she keeps me here in the city to keep an eye on me, and I’ve been working my ass off to re-earn her trust.” He finally looked up at Tucker, “And ya know what, she’s right. What happens if I forget what’s going on in the middle of battle? It’ll put my entire squad in danger. I- I can’t be the reason a group of young soldiers die... all because my brain doesn’t fucking work. How can you say I’m anything more than a burden?” Wash looked back down as he trailed off. 

“Wash, you’re anything but a burden. You were pushing me away all because one person has their doubts when the entire rest of the planet believes in you? We can get through this, together. We can talk to Grey, see if there’s anything you can take to help you and hell I’ll talk to Kimball and tell her to lighten the fuck up and treat you the same as everyone else. I can only imagine how shitty this is for you to go through, and I wish every day that you getting shot wasn’t necessary to keep time from un-fucking-raveling. Hell! I wish you were never shot in the first place! I should’ve stopped you from walking out there instead of just standing there yelling at you. Maybe none of this would’ve happened if I had.” Wash looked at Tucker again, who was looking off in the distance, shaking his head, replaying memories in his head. _He shouldn’t be blaming himself for this_ , Wash thought. He had no idea Wash would be shot. 

His gaze snapped back to Wash’s, holding it where it was. “But if you think for a goddamn second that I’m not going to be here for you all because you have brain damage, then you’re a bigger idiot than Caboose. I love you, Wash… I was in love with you back when we crash landed on Chorus. I was in love with you when you were being a hard ass on Caboose and I. I was in love with you when we fought side by side against the mercs. I was in love with you during our retirement on Iris. I was in love with you when we dealt with the Blues and Reds and time travel bullshit. And I’m in love with you now. The fact that you have brain damage didn’t change that fact. I love  _ you _ and it kills me that you see yourself this way… We can figure something out. I’m not going to give up on you. Just because you can’t remember shit sometimes doesn’t mean you’re any less worthy or deserving of happiness and love.” 

Wash felt his heart skip a beat.  _ I love you, Wash… _ Tucker loves him. He looked down feeling the heat rise up his neck to his face. His eyes flickered up to Tucker’s gaze, “You really mean that?” 

Tucker grabbed Wash’s hand, intertwining their fingers. His eyes shifted to their hands before raising his head. Tucker rested his other hand on the side of Wash’s face. Wash couldn’t help but lean into the touch, “Of course I mean it.”

His voice held so much sincerity and Wash could see it written across his face. 

Wash couldn’t resist, he leaned forward but hesitated. He still doubted himself. However, Tucker didn’t doubt him and he trusted Tucker. He closed the distance pressing his lips against Tucker’s and melted. He already loved the feeling of Tucker’s warm, soft lips. This was something he wanted to feel every day for the rest of his life. 

His arms found their way around Tucker’s neck as Tucker grabbed onto Wash’s waist. There were so many unspoken words that Wash could  _ feel _ in this kiss. He knew Tucker was trying to tell him that he deserved this, he deserved to be here with Tucker, and Tucker  _ wanted _ to be here kissing him. Wash could feel Tucker’s love and how strong it was in this kiss and he did his best to reciprocate that feeling back to Tucker. 

Eventually the need for oxygen required the two to pull away from each other, even though it was the last thing either wanted to do. 

“Wash, you deserve this. You deserve to be here and feel the way that you do. You deserve  _ everything _ and so much more than that. No matter what that head of yours is telling you, you do deserve this. Please don’t let it convince you otherwise.” Tucker decided to repeat his message from earlier between trying to catch his breath, “The memory lapses and the nightmares are only one part of you. There are so many other things that add to who you are. Like your patience with Caboose and how you never get angry with him when he’s the biggest idiot in the galaxy, how you always put yourself in harm’s way before your squad, you self-sacrificing asshole,” That earned a chuckle out of Wash, “you’ve found solutions to so many problems here on Chorus and helped countless people not only here but before, even back when you were in the Project. You’re an excellent military leader and have been the reason for so many of our victories. Hell, I learned everything I know about being a military leader from watching you! This one little part of who you are does not change the value of all the good that’s always been there…” 

“But, what if Dr. Grey doesn’t have anything to help me? What if I can’t stop forgetting things?” Wash voiced his concern.

“There’s got to be something out there in the galaxy, hell even if there isn’t, that woman’s a fucking genius, psycho but a genius none the less, I’m sure she’d be able to make something for you.” Tucker voiced optimistically. 

Wash thought for a moment, biting his lip. There was still that nagging voice in the back of his head, but Tucker seemed so  _ sure _ so... he believed Tucker. “Okay… we can go talk to Grey in the morning…”

Tucker’s warm smile lit up the dark room and Wash couldn’t help the one that appeared on his own lips. Tucker brushed his thumb over Wash’s cheek. “Did you want to try to go back to sleep?” He whispered. 

Wash blushed and he’s sure Tucker could feel the heat on his hand, “Only if you stay with me…” 

Tucker gave Wash a simple smile as an answer and laid down on the bed. He grabbed Wash’s hand to guide him down on top of him. Wash snuggled into Tucker’s chest. He was so warm and Wash could hear his heart beating steadily. Remnants of Tucker’s cologne still lingered on his shirt. His eyes fluttered closed as Tucker’s arms held him tightly and securely. Yeah… this was nice... Really nice. 

Tucker’s breathing had begun to even out as the two laid there. Wash glanced up at his face before returning his head to its previous position on Tucker’s chest, “Hey, Tucker…” Wash whispered. 

Tucker hummed in response. 

“I love you too…” Wash breathed out, he wasn’t even sure if Tucker would be awake enough to hear him and remember it tomorrow, but Wash needed him to know, he needed to say it. Especially after Tucker had said it earlier, Wash had never repeated the words back to him. However, the way Tucker’s arms tightened around Wash let him know he heard the message loud and clear. Wash smiled and let his eyes flutter closed again, drifting to sleep. 

__

A couple of weeks have passed since Wash and Tucker got together. Wash went to Dr. Grey to inform her the lapses were getting worse. She scolded him for not telling her anything sooner but instantly jumped into action to find something to help. She ended up prescribing him some pills she made out of various herbs and minerals on Chorus, all of which were supposed to be good for your brain. Grey also gave him some diet restrictions and suggestions so he’d only eat foods rich in vitamins to further help his condition.

“Thanks, Emily, I really appreciate you doing this for me.” Wash graciously thanked her.

She giggled, “Of course, Agent Washington, I would’ve offered you one of my many experimental treatments but none of my subjects have survived preliminary testing yet.”

Wash really wished she hadn’t said that, “Um, I’m good… thanks…” He could feel how pale his face was.

“Only if you insist.” She laughed unsettlingly. 

And as Tucker promised, he visited Kimball and had some very strong words for her.  “What the fuck is your deal?! Why’d you turn on Wash like that?!” He shouted angrily as he stormed into her office.

“Excuse me?” Kimball was caught off guard.

“The fuck’s the deal with you not trusting Wash anymore?!” Tucker rephrased.

“What on earth makes you think I don’t trust Agent Washington?” Kimball asked.

“Wash heard you outside of his hospital room talking to Grey. There’s also the fact that you forbid him from going anywhere farther than three feet away from you when we do any missions!” Tucker bluntly stated.

Kimball sighed taking a moment to think before answering, “Tucker, I don’t mean to be so harsh on Wash but I have an entire planet to worry about.”

“After everything he’s helped do for you and everyone else on Chorus, you’re going to throw that all away just because Wash _got hurt_! This shit isn’t fair to him! It's not like he lost a leg, or was kidnapped and got turned into some killing machine! He’s still the same Agent Washington that helped take down Felix and Locus and save your planet from a civil war! The same Agent Washington that you once considered a friend. Or did you just suddenly forget about all of that?!” Tucker was going to remain there and fight for Wash as long as it took.

Kimball would be lying if she said she didn’t feel guilty about how she treated Wash. She saw the looks he’d give her when she’d order him to remain behind or when she’d say something just a _bit_ too harshly. Looking back on it, she had to admit to herself that she was being hard on Wash. He hadn’t done anything to raise any concern and he seemed to have his mind in check when it mattered. Tucker was pointing out the obvious here; how she was acting towards him wasn’t okay.

“You’re right.” Kimball said.

“What?” Tucker wasn’t expecting this to be that easy.

“I said, you’re right. This isn’t fair to Wash and I jumped to conclusions before looking at the facts. I had no right to be so harsh on him.” She explained.

“Well, that went a lot smoother than expected. I’ll be sure to pass that along to Wash.” Tucker said. He scratched at his neck, turning to walk out as he did so.

“No need, I’d prefer to do so myself.” Kimball stated giving an apologetic smile as she did so.

Kimball did pass that message along to Wash when she called him to her office shortly after Tucker left.

“You wanted to see me, President Kimball?” Wash asked as he entered her office.

“Wash, you know you can call me Vanessa.” Kimball corrected gently.

“Right, sorry, so why did you want to see me?” He asked again. He couldn’t help the nervousness he felt.

“I wanted to apologize.” She began, she gestured to one of the chairs to invite Wash to sit across from her. He cautiously accepted, his stiff demeanor not going unnoticed. She sighed sincerely before speaking, “I’m sorry you overheard the conversation between Dr. Grey and I outside your hospital room. I’m sorry I’ve been exceptionally hard on you recently with the recon missions. And I’m sorry I’ve doubted your abilities since your injury. It wasn’t fair to you to jump to those conclusions and you didn’t deserve that treatment. I viewed you as though you were someone that couldn’t be trusted rather than the friend that helped Chorus and its people in our darkest times. I hope you can forgive me.”

Wash was pleasantly surprised this was why she wanted to see him. He took a moment to process her words and Kimball waited patiently for him to do so, “Thank you, that- means a lot actually. Does this mean I’ll be able to go out in the field on the next mission?” He couldn’t help asking.

“As long as you’re medically cleared by Dr. Grey, yes.” Kimball reassured. Wash couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. No more being cooped up here in the city.

So, things were beginning to go back to normal. Well, as normal as things could get with the Reds and Blues. Wash began to notice his memory lapses were fewer and less several after receiving the medication from Grey. They didn’t stop entirely but it was definitely an improvement.

Today, the two, color coded teams were hanging out together. Something that honestly didn’t happen enough. What he should really say is they were hanging out together earlier. Donut left because him and Doc had planned on video chatting with each other. Carolina left to train some of the troops. And Sarge left because he wanted to do some tinkering on his latest contraption.

Those that remained were in the lounge room. Caboose laid on his stomach on the floor. He was drawing a picture, probably of the Reds and Blues. Caboose called everyone of them his family. And Wash couldn’t help but feel the same. These people were his family. They had their ups and downs and they certainly didn’t replace those he left back home but these people cared about him and he cared about them just the same.

Wash sat on the couch with the man he loved curled into his side, both were watching over Caboose as he continued to doodle. Grif and Simmons could be heard bickering in the kitchen. Simmons was screeching at Grif about the abuse the lazy soldier was delivering to Simmons’ old organs. Grif retorted, defending himself claiming that since the organs were not in Simmons’ body but in his own instead; this, therefore, made them his and he could treat them however he pleased.

“I should play Love Doctor and finally get those two together.” Tucker looked up at Wash and whispered.

Wash snorted, rolling his eyes, “Sure, you do that…”

“Actually, I’ve got ten bucks that says they’ve secretly been boning since Blood Gulch. That’s why they refused to talk about the closet incident during the Temple of Procreation bullshit. They were afraid their nasty deeds would be revealed.” Tucker explained his conspiracy to Wash. Wash actually could see the logic behind it.

Wash made a face to indicate that he was actually mildly impressed as he thought it over, “Yeah, I’ll take those odds.” He finally agreed.

“Normally, I’d seal the deal with a handshake, but you… I’ve got something else in mind.” Tucker smirked; Wash had a feeling he knew what he was referring to.

Wash returned the smirk as he spoke, “Yeah, and what would that be?”

“This…” Tucker hooked a finger under Wash’s chin and connected their lips in a kiss to seal the deal.

“Get a room, you nasty fucks!” Grif yelled.

Tucker broke the kiss to voice his reply, smirk still ever present on his face, “Oh, we’d be doing a lot more than kissing if we got a room. Bow chicka bow wow!”


End file.
